


The Company of Wolves

by Meowmeowmerida



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Adorably fluffy deadly weapons, Along with bitch, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Jon Snow didn't go to The Wall, BAMF Jon Snow, BAMF Women, Badass Arya, Badass Women, Brandon Snow and other Northmen leave the North, Catelyn wasn't the best mother to Jon, Conquest Goes Differently, Direwolves are deadly weapons, Gratuitous use of the word fuck and fucker, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow knows something, Jon goes East, Jon is a Mercenary, Maegor was and idiot for building secret tunnels, Multi, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Robb Lives, Sansa gets rescued, They don't stay a secret, Warg Jon Snow, Warging, Wargs, sorry but
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-02-28 13:16:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13272204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowmeowmerida/pseuds/Meowmeowmerida
Summary: Brandon Snow and many other Northmen refused to bow to the Targaryens. They went to Braavos and created a mercenary company. It changes everything.Jon Snow has grown up on the story of Brandon Snow a man who made a name for himself and went East. He doesn’t know that his blood will change everything.





	1. Prologue: The History of Snow

**Author's Note:**

> So I got the idea from 'A Bastard Journey' by Quryu (?). In the last update before I published this. There was an entire mercenary company founded by Brandon Snow who left Westeros after the Conquest. so here is my version of it.

_ “We are not makers of history. We are made by history.”  _

_ -Martin Luther King, Jr. _

  
  


3rd Person PoV

One of the defining moments in the history of the Seven Kingdoms was the Conquest. There were hundreds of books written about it from every kingdom. There were books focusing in on the key players of it, King Aegon and his bastard brother Orys Baratheon. The majority of the books came from the Reach and the other southern realms. The Reach and Westerlands were cowed while the Riverlands were freed from the rule of the Ironborn. The Realms of the Andals had been saved.

 

There were two Kingdoms that hadn’t needed such intervention. Dorne fought hard and valiantly against the Targaryens only being brought into the fold by a marriage. The North was one of the most interesting cases. Holding their territories for thousands of years against the Andal invaders, the Kings of Winter seemed destined for a second field of fire.

 

Brandon Snow had offered himself up, creating an audacious plan to sneak into the camp and attack the sleeping Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes. He wanted to keep the North under their own rule. However his brother King Torrhen Stark rejected that plan, not wishing for his brother to die along with scores of his people.

 

So he became the King-Who-Knelt.

 

It was said that Brandon Snow was so disgusted by his brother’s cowardice and willingness to give up the fight that he left the North. He gathered like-minded northerners to his side, proud second sons and Snows and their families, and they fled to Essos rather than suffer the Targaryen’s rule.

 

He reinvented himself in Braavos taking the name Brandon Whitestark. He created a mercenary company that was soon whispered about across Essos and then eventually the world. The two direwolves, Torrhen Stark’s and his own, soon multiplied. The Northerners that came with him created their own houses and sought their own fortunes. The Company of Wolves was born from the Conquest, and although overshadowed by the more recent Golden Company they’re reputation was still fierce.

 

Brandon Whitestark was a name people remembered. His story turned into a ballad. In the South a warning against bastards and what they might do if spurned. In the North it was a story of hard earned freedom and prosperity. It was something every Snow in the North wished to attain and many still did seek out their long lost cousins in the East.

 

While Lady Catelyn had wished for the Southern interpretation to be heard, for who had suffered more at the hands of Targaryen bastards than the Riverlands? She was not in the South and she had very few friends. In the North while bastards would be the last in succession, every pair of hands were appreciated come winter. So her children and her husband's bastard grew up hearing about a Northman leaving the North behind and still thriving.  


 

Being a member of the Company of Wolves was something Jon longed for from the moment he had a training sword pressed into his hands as a boy. He wanted to go East and reforge the ties between his family and their estranged cadet branch.   


 

So the day he turned 10-and-4 he wrote a letter to the Company of Wolves. He hoped to be a representative for his father to mend the burned bridges. The Targaryens no longer ruled and it should be easier for the two Stark families to reconnect. Jon did not hope for a quick reply. Essos was far away after all, but so many moons passed that his hopes began to dwindle. He prepared for the very real eventuality of going to the Wall.

 

However, not long after his family got the letter announcing the King’s arrival in Winterfell and the death of Lord Jon Arryn, Jon too got a letter. The letter he had been waiting for all of his life.

 

He was going to Essos to the Company of the Wolves. He would be among with Whitestarks and their direwolves. He might get one of his own should he prove himself to his distant kin. He could make his own fortunes. His name could be whispered with awe by young boys in the North and Essos. He could makes more of himself than he could as long as Lady Stark is part of the North.

 

He had seen how she treated Domeric’s betrothal to her favorite daughter. She looked down on Northmen even after all of these years. She looked down on their traditions and that they were so accepting of him. She was Southern and it as in her blood and bones just as the North was in Jon's.  


 

He was going to leave that all behind.


	2. Changes in Winterfell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon tells his family about the letter and makes an unlikely friend. The Royal retinue arrives in Winterfell. Buried secrets are revealed and broken relationships mended. Lord Eddard Stark unwittingly gains Southern allies.

_ “Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.” _

_ -Harriet Tubman _ _   
  
_

3rd Person PoV

 

**_“Blah”_ ** Direct Quote from Show or Books

* * *

 

 

The night he had gotten the letter his father had gathered all of his children for dinner. While they were eating his father would always ask them about their day. Rickon was a small boy and would talk about how he had found worms and explored the castle. Arya would complain about lessons and pester her brothers. Bran would talk about the towers he climbed much to his mother’s ire. Sansa would talk about her lessons and eat daintily. Robb would talk about what Theon did and how he had beat him in the sparring yard.

 

“And you Jon?” His brother asked wryly. “You’ve been in a good mood all day. You were practically skipping earlier.” Jon rolled his eyes but then said.

 

“I got a letter from Rodrik Whitestark himself. There will be a ship run by business partners at White Harbor in two moons. I plan to be on it.”

 

“Really?!” Arya cries excitedly. “You’re going to the Company of Wolves?!!!”

 

“You have to write to us!” Bran demands loudly. “I want to hear about Braavos!”

 

“And the direwolves!” Arya adds excitedly, practically bouncing in her seat.

 

“It will be good to reconnect with our distant kin.” His father says rather quietly. “I’m glad to know that you’re happy Jon. Although Benjen will be a little disappointed that you’re going so far away.”

 

“I’ll make sure to write, and I think he’s going to be happier that I’m not stuck on the Wall.” Jon said and his father looked sad yet proud.

 

&  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &

 

**A Sennight Later**

 

When the King arrived Jon was internally excited. A few days before he had arrived Jon and his siblings all had direwolves that they had found just after birth. The man was a legend, a great warrior. The man who had dethroned the Targaryens. He was the best friend of his father, they fostered together. He was supposed to be able to wield a war hammer the size of Arya that weighed around the same as Jon.

 

Instead he was fatter than Lord Manderly, wielded a wine goblet, and seemed to care little for his wife and children. His wife was beautiful, golden haired with emerald eyes but she looked around Jon's home with complete disdain. Her eldest son was arrogant and haughty, reminding Jon of Theon once he realized they weren’t going to immediately cut off his head and before he took the Northern ways to heart.

 

“You got fat,” was the first thing he declared upon seeing  Jon’s Lord Father. Instead of taking offense it seemed to be a joke between the two of them and they embraced.

 

“Your grace, Winterfell is yours.”

 

“Oh by the Gods Ned, you’re my brother. I know the North is on my side! Introduce me to your family! Of course I remember Lady Catelyn.” He kisses her hand and she curtsies.

 

“Your grace it is wonderful to see you again.”

 

“This is my son and heir Robb-”

 

“Ah, you’re a big strong boy! I’m glad to meet you.” He slaps Robb on the shoulder and Robb smiles awkwardly.

 

“You as well, your grace.” The King moves on.

 

“You must be Lady Sansa.” Sansa curtsies perfectly and says sweetly.

 

“Yes your grace, it’s nice to meet you, your grace.” She was nervous but courteous and ultimately forgotten by the King in his rush to meet the Stark boys.

 

“Lady Arya?” Arya smiles at him.

 

“Yes, your grace.” 

 

He continued on down the line of children and greeted them happily. Then he seemed to tally the numbers and consider something. Then he comes to a realization and approaches his father.

 

“Where is Jon’s namesake?” Jon stiffens and almost winces. Lady Stark would be more than a little angry at Jon.

 

“Jon,” his father says and Jon makes his way forward and bows deeply.

 

“Your grace.”

 

“He has your face Ned. Well boy how old are you?”

 

“10-and-4 your grace.”

 

“What do you say about coming South with us and becoming a knight?”

 

“I already got a letter from the Company of Wolves, your grace.” The man looks surprised before grinning from ear to ear.

 

“Good on you then boy! I always wanted to go East! You must be proud Ned!” He pats Jon on the back hard and he almost stumbles forward. It seemed the man was still very strong despite his figure.

 

“I am, your grace.” The man then leaves Jon alone and he goes to his room.

 

His brother comes to him as soon as he is able. Which is hours later but before the feast. He brings in both of their direwolves and a meal for Jon. Robb looks a little saddened. Ghost immediately jumps onto the bed and puts his nose under Jon’s arm and puts his head in Jon’s lap. The white pup’s bright red eyes look up at him.

 

“I’m sorry about the King and my mother. She doesn’t want you at the feast.”

 

“I gathered that Stark. Why do you think the King remembered me?”

 

“You heard him talk about our father. He sees the man as his brother, he met you as a babe, and your namesake just died.”

 

“Not to mention everyone thinks my uncle is the Sword of the Morning. How much would you bet that he would like me on the Kingsguard?” Jon asks the old hurt bubbling up of not knowing his mother’s name despite his begging.

 

“I’m not taking that bet but it’s probably a lot.” Robb tells him a grimace on his face. “I don’t think he understands the Old Gods.”

 

“Aye I don’t think he does. I’m sorry you have to eat a dinner I smuggled to you.” Jon shrugged.

 

“I won’t have to deal with this for much longer, now go to the feast Stark.” His brother seems a little sad but he smiles as he leaves Jon’s room.

 

Jon stays in his room for a while before becoming restless and sneaking to the tiltyard. No one was there so he dragged out a dummy and began to hack at it.

 

“I didn’t see you at the feast.” A male voice says and Jon whirls to look for it and finds no one. “I’m a dwarf, you will have to look down.”

 

The man that was there had light blonde hair cut short. He was ugly with a misshapen face and body. His features coarse and unrefined unlike his siblings. He wore a red doublet with a golden lion finely embroidered on it. He wasn’t even to Jon’s hip and Jon was rather short for the men of his family.

 

“Lord Tyrion.” Jon not knowing whether to bow or not.

 

“I envy you a little bit.” Jon was surprised by the man’s confession. “You have an able body, skill with a blade, and the ability to leave Westeros.”

 

“And you don’t Lord Tyrion?” Jon asks with an eyebrow raised, the little man takes a swig of wine from the skin he had in hand.

 

“My father wishes to keep his shame close.” He tells him laughing coldly. 

 

“Being able bodied doesn’t mean you have a keen or sound mind.”Jon retorted softly.

 

“That is true,” he says with a smirk, eyes glinting in the low light.  **_“Never forget what you are, the rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor and it can never be used to hurt you.”_ **

 

“It is good advice Lord Tyrion, thank you. Mayhaps I can write about my adventures and send them in letters.”

 

“It would be appreciated but I have read plenty of books. I would rather see the things that are written on the pages. See if the pictures in my mind are anything like the reality. Good night Snow, and thank you for offering.” The man waddles off to his rooms drinking the wine in his hand while Jon looked on.  


 

&  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &

 

Ser Barristan Selmy had served four kings and had lived through multiple generations of Targaryens. If anyone knew what a Targaryen looked like it would be him. He had heard of Ned Stark’s son on Ashara Dayne. He thought that his age was more in line with a tryst between his brother and Lady Dayne in the Black Cells. However he had also heard that she birthed a stillborn girl. 

 

Barristan hoped to put those rumors to rest in his head. He thought that he would have to seek out the boy but the King did that for him. He had asked after his foster father’s namesake to be forced forward. 

 

When he was Barristan's breath caught in his throat. There was Aegon’s the Unlikely’s chin, Rhaegar and Rhaella’s cheekbones, Rhaelle’s nose, Jaehaerys’ lips, and Shaera’s eyes that were closer to silver than amethyst. He saw Rhaegar’s lean frame hidden under a thick doublet and cloak made for the North. He had dark hair, Rhoynish curls, a long face, and pale skin. He could see how everyone thought the dark haired child in front of him was a Dayne. They had Dornish curls and enough of Valyrian features to disguise his true Targaryen nature.

 

Jon Snow wasn’t the son of any Stark male, but a Stark woman. He wondered why the Lord Eddard would bring home his sister’s child rather than leave it in Dorne to die or turn him in to the King. However, Ned Stark was an honorable man. He wouldn’t kill a child and if his sister had asked him to keep her child alive or the grief of so many of his family had overwhelmed him then Barristan could see why he kept him alive and close.  


 

By the Gods this boy was something the Loyalists had wished for, ever since the end of the Rebellion. A son of Rhaegar Targaryen. Ser Barristan wouldn’t tell the king or the Queen or Ser Jaime, but the Lannister knight spent a lot of time with Targaryens and he only hoped that the man would stay away from the boy. Jon Snow would surely be killed. He doubted that the boy even knew. There was no hate in his eyes directed at the king, only disappointment and fear when he peeked at Lady Catelyn. Thank the Old Gods and the New that Robert was willfully blind with a short attention span.

 

He prayed that nothing would happen to the boy. He prayed that he would get to Essos before anything could happen. The old knight was off duty that night and in his chambers. There was a knock on the door. It was late and he couldn't sleep.  


 

“Come in.” Ser Jaime entered the room and he looked haunted in a way that Barristan hadn't seen since Lord Rickard Stark was burned alive while his son strangled himself.  


 

“Jon Snow isn’t just a Stark.” He says immediately after closing the door in a whisper.  


 

“Are you going to tell you’re sister?”

 

“No, the deaths of those children haunt me. I won’t be responsible for another.” A old hurt welled up and Ser Barristan stood up to get into the face of the man whispering angrily.

 

“You stabbed your king in the back-”

 

“So he didn’t burn King’s Landing to the ground.” He says. “There is wildfire under the city. Under the dragonpit, and the Sept. ‘Let the Usurper rule over ashes’ he told the pyromancer cackling in delight. ‘Burn them all.’” Ser Barristan steps back in shock.

 

“You killed him to save King’s Landing. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

 

“I was a Kingslayer. No one wanted to speak to me. No one wanted to believe me. Why would I say it if no one was going to hear it?” He crumples to the ground and Ser Barristan catches his younger brother’s elbows, holding him up as he cried. He had never felt more of failure than in this moment.

 

“Nothing I can say can right this wrong.” He says after a long silence practically cradling the younger man. “But I horribly misjudged and thought you were more like you’re father than your mother.”

 

“We won’t tell him.” Jaime says his voice cracking and muffled.  


 

“We won’t.” Barristan tells him soothingly.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had to put the quote from the show because it was just one of my absolute favorites from the show.


	3. Separation and Politicking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon makes his way to Braavos and Jaime begins to deal with the fallout of Rhaegar's child living and his son's madness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. As I'm going back into school updating slows down also I spent most of the day yesterday severely hungover and not being able to keep any food or water down. So I will try to update things like once a month because I have several stories I want to keep going. However, I don't stick to schedules well and I have some hard classes coming up.

_ “For when two beings who are not friends are near each other there is no meeting, and when friends are far apart there is no separation.” _

_ -Simone Weil _

 

3rd Person PoV

 

The Royal party stayed in Winterfell for a moon. In that moon Domeric’s betrothal to Sansa was almost broken and it would have happened if Lady Catelyn and the King had gotten their way. However, his father had put his foot down. His daughters would being staying in the North, like their grandmothers and great-grandmothers.

 

Jon was leaving like Domeric’s bastard brother had left. However, from the rumors that swirled around that incident were much darker than Jon’s. He shivered just thinking about it, thinking about the boy of similar age being almost murdered by his own brother. Poison it was rumored but his father was paranoid and when the poison taster began to have horrible pains in his stomach. Well, Ramsay Snow was in the East now and supposedly halfway exiled from the North.

 

Jon was glad to separate from the Royal party. They seemed to stop and simper over every single little thing and stop. The Queen’s monstrously large wheel house with it’s constantly breaking axles certainly didn’t help. Before he left his father gave him a letter to read once he was in Braavos. He told Jon that it was about his mother. Jon didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just tell him but he was going to obey his father’s instructions. So when Jon split to go to White Harbor he was relieved.

 

The Stark guards and himself easily made it to the Manderly’s domain within a few days. He was greeted by an honor guard led by Ser Wendel.

 

“Jon Snow, we are happy to host a son of Ned Stark in our home.”

 

“I am glad to be here Ser Wendel.”

 

He spent the night in their castle, met his future good sister Lady Wynafryd, and feasted with them. Jon however was anxious to find the ship making its way towards Braavos. The Royal Party was slow and he feared that he had missed the departure. The next day he sought them out and found them.

 

The ship was called the Bitch. It was a big ship, a trading vessel that could be converted into a war vessel easily. It was manned by a crew of fifteen. Most looked Northern but some were definitely Essosi.

 

“Cutting it close there ain’t ya?”

 

“Never travel with the Royal Party. I've seen ice melt faster.” The man laughs.

 

“Fair enough lad.”

 

Jon only stayed in White Harbor until the ship going towards Braavos and the Company of Wolves was due to leave. Which was only two days after he had arrived. He complimented his hosts, said goodbye to his future good-sister, and got onto the ship.

 

The captain was an old man with the long Northern face and a pronounced limp. His skin was leathery and dark and he didn’t look completely Northern. Apparently his mother was Volantene. The Company of Wolves has a group of men to sail them called Seawolves led by the Seastarks.

 

“I don’t think I’ve been around this many Stark’s in my entire life.” Jon says jokingly a sennight into the voyage.

 

“And that is one of the worst things I’ve heard. Why didn’t your father’s brother have children?”

 

“I don’t think he likes the process needed to produce children. He joined the Night’s Watch.”

 

“I’ve met a few people like that. I don’t understand it but they don’t hurt anybody, so I don’t bother them.”

 

&. &. &. &. &. &. &. &. &. &. 

 

**On the Kingsroad**

 

Ser Jaime started to guard Joffrey more often. So he went with him when the boy decided to drink enough to rival the king. His almost betrothed Lady Sansa was with him, obviously trying to get his 'nephews' attention. Probably on her mother's orders. It was when they came across the younger Stark girl that he knew it was going to end badly.

 

Joffrey had taken Robert Baratheon’s ideas about masculinity and what women should be to heart. Honestly, Jaime thought that the boy would take any violent belief system as his own as long as he got power and blood out of it the boy was happy. The younger lady was anything but Lady like. She liked swords and would watch men train. Jaime had little doubt that the girl was probably attempting to recreate the moves she had witnessed with the small, pudgy, red head boy with her.  


 

He was drunk and wearing real steel. None of the boys at Winterfell did, apparently until they were considered advanced they weren’t even given blunted steel. Joffrey wouldn’t be considered advanced according to the Northerners. Jaime thought that maybe some of the savage ways of the North made sense. Jaime wouldn't have given the boy steel, especially at this age.  


 

“Your grace killing a child will not make your father approve of your fighting prowess. He is practically unarmed.” Joffery had made his way to stab the little boy and probably to maim Lady Arya.  


 

“Do you question me Kingslayer?” He demands turning on him, a mad look in his eyes.  


 

“I find the murder of children to be bad for my digestion your grace.” He waved for the redheaded Stark daughter to grab her sister.

 

She was frozen but the younger one grabbed her elder sister and the steward boy. They left the secluded spot as Jaime made sure to keep his mad bastard son back from killing a Lord Paramount’s daughters. He keeps the boy from chasing after them and with the direwolves' growls covering the girls’ retreat.

 

He then brings the boy back to camp and goes to talk to Cersei. 

 

“Jaime how are you?”

 

“Your grace, the prince needs to have his alcohol intake monitored. He almost attacked a daughter of a Lord Paramount with a sword.” 

 

“And I’m certain the little cretin deserved it.” Cersei brushes him off.

 

“No one will allow another Mad King on the throne my queen.” He tells her grabbing her arm and looking into his sister's eyes.  


 

“Are you saying our son is mad Jaime?” He sees the lioness Cersei is so proud of being as she pulls her arm out of Jaime's slack grip.  


 

“Your son, you have never allowed any man to be their father. You ignore the faults in Joffrey. He reminds me of Viserys, a boy just as mad as Aerys. All he’s missing is learning at a madman’s knee.” She slaps him across the face. 

 

“You dare.”

 

“I’m trying to make sure our family legacy is safe. It won’t be with Joffrey on the throne.”

 

&  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &

 

**Braavos- Fortnight Later**

 

When Jon exited the Bitch and got onto the decks he was assaulted by the smell of fish. Languages ringing in his ears. There was an insane amount of people. It was rather warm when he compared it to home. In the distance he could see the huge form of the Titan. Watching it loom above the ship as they sailed in was quite the intimidating sight. The docks were alive in a way that even Winterfell when the King arrived, _wasn't_.  


 

“Different than the North ain’t it?” An old man asks him and Jon almost jumps. 

 

He had never really had that many people be able to sneak up on him. However, he had been so entranced by the sight of such a foreign place that he hadn't been paying attention. The man that had snuck up on him was an older man. He was easily in his fifties with graying hair and the Stark grey eyes. He was smiling at Jon and little Ghost who was at his side, biting and pulling his pants.  


 

“Rodrik Whitestark,” he offers his hand to Jon and when Jon offers his hand he grabs Jon’s forearm.

 

“Jon Snow, it’s nice to meet you my lord.” He laughs.

 

“There are no lords here boy. Just call me Whitestark or Old Rodrik, everyone does.”

 

“Aye Old Rodrik.” The old man begins to move along. “Why did you greet me personally?”

 

“You’re the first Stark bastard we’ve gotten in a while, and if I’m not mistaken that’s a direwolf pup at your side.”

 

“That’s Ghost, he was the runt. We found a litter with their mother dead. There were enough pups for all of us.”

 

“That Andal woman would have denied you one had there not been enough.”

 

“She is my father’s wife-”

 

“She is an Andal, and a Southerner. She has no right to tell a son of the North how she should behave. Whatever she has said to you is wrong. You are not a sin, you are not a stain on your father’s honor. You are something that was not planned yes, but you are a human being. A man of the North and a Snow of the Stark family. You do not bow to Andals.”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Now come along lad. It’s time to introduce you to the rest of the pack!”

 

He makes his way to a relatively large building with multiple floors. The streets of Braavos are like a maze and there are canals everywhere. He saw children diving into the water and playing. Everyone in Braavos knew how to swim. Jon felt that he was swaying for a few moments walking along the narrow twisting paths of Braavos, but he couldn’t tell if it was left over sensation from the boat or the many islands of Braavos actually swaying. 

 

Winterfell had always felt timeless like Jon could walk into the Godswood in his own time and walk out in the time of Torrhen Stark and Brandon Snow. Nothing truly changed in Winterfell. However, Braavos felt like it was writhing and alive beneath his feet. The secret home of escaped slaves that rose to be the richest of the Free Cities. It was a place that had changed and kept changing to survive. Winterfell stood still and strong against Northern winds but Braavos fought.

 

The building they entered was filled to the brink with Northern looking men and women. It reminded Jon of the great feast they had after Greyjoy’s Rebellion with every noble house in the North at Winterfell. Of course this was more of a tavern than the Great Hall but it was similar enough. He was surrounded by grizzled men and strong looking women.

 

“This is the Quiet Wolf’s pup?” One giant man asks looking at Jon who is holding Ghost.

 

“Aye, and you must be the half giant.” The entire room including that man erupt into laughter.

 

“Welcome to the Company pup!” One woman yells and all of them raise drinks.

 

Jon has a good feeling about this place.

 


	4. Chapter 3: Braavos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon get's used to the Company. New characters, a wild Ramsay appears, and Jon punches an asshole out. Also Jon is done with comments on his height and lean frame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly introducing characters and talking about Jon's training and it is a filler but it needed to be done.

_“We Braavosi are descended from those who fled Valyria and the wroth of its_ _dragonlords. We do not jape of dragons.”_

_ -Tycho Nestoris- ‘A Dance with Dragons’ Chapter 44, Jon IX _

 

3rd Person PoV 

 

**Blah/ “Blah”** Flashback

* * *

 

 

Braavos was a place that moved. Things changed quickly and quietly, despite the shivers of the Essosi people it was warmer than the North.

 

The first two days Jon and Ghost were not allowed into the barracks. They didn’t want Jon to get everyone in the barracks sick. Then he was allowed into the Barracks. There weren’t a lot of people around his age. Most of them were in their late teens and early twenties.  


 

There was Ramsay but Ramsay was kept apart from everyone. No one knew if he would kill them as they slept. He couldn’t be trusted.

 

When he met the legendary Ramsay Snow he understood immediately. There was something wrong with him and he could practically sense it immediately. Despite his smiling face and his want to be friends all Jon wanted to do was back away from him. He had approached him.

 

****************Flashback***************

 

**“You are from the North as well? I mean a new Northerner, a Snow.” He’s earnest but something is off about this man.  
**

 

**“Aye, my name is Jon Snow. You are Lord Bolton’s son Ramsay right?” He smiles and everything in Jon screams at him to run.**

 

**“Yes, I am Ramsay. So why did you come here?” Jon obviously looks confused because the madman continues. “I tried to poison my brother so I was exiled here. What about you?”**

 

**“My lord father’s wife wanted me out of her sight. Forever.” He tells the unsettling older boy.  
**

 

**“We’re both outcasts.” He says with a too large smile. “Outcasts should stay together.”**

 

**“Aye, we should.” Jon left the man behind resolving to become as busy as possible in the next few days to keep away from the insanity of Ramsay Snow.**

 

*************Flashback***************

 

The day he got out of what they call sick watch he met the main trainer. He was a large man with Wildling blood, blood red hair and a blind eye from a scar running from high in his hair line down to the corner of his mouth. His name was Tor and he towered over Jon. He could tower over most men, he was the one who yelled at him the first day he arrived.  


 

“You're the new recruit from Westeros?”

 

“Aye, I am Jon Snow.” They clasp their hands on each other's forearm.  


 

“Don’t want a new name?”

 

“Not yet, maybe when I earn it.” The man gives him a smile.

 

“Good, you might be tiny but you have the Northern spirit.” He claps him on the back. “How many weapons can you use?”

 

“Crossbow and sword if we are talking about doing it well. A dagger in extenuating circumstances, but anyone could."  


 

“Well we’ll need to show you another bladed weapon. It’s a requirement, being proficient at two different bladed weapons It will also give your wolf time to grow. We don’t put dire wolves under seven moons onto battlefields. And since your so little I have just the person.”

 

“I feel insulted.”

 

“Hah! You might be little but so is the other man I’m taking you too and I wouldn’t want to fight him ever. The man is Yi Tish, he calls himself Master Torune. Apparently in Yi Ti when you master fighting you are given that title even if you are a slave.”

 

“How did he come to be a member?”

 

“He married a spearwife and they have a daughter and a grandson now.”

 

They make their way through the city towards the homes of those who weren’t terribly rich or poor. Many of the members with families lived here. The man knocks on the door and it opens to reveal an older looking man. His hair is a dark inky with silvery streaks running through and he has a short mustache. He squints at them and looks at Jon.

 

“You want me to train him?” He asks immediately.

 

“Aye I do Master Torune. He needs to learn another bladed weapons and he is small for a Northerner.”

 

“Must be the Lysene blood I see.” Jon wonders if he should open the letter. He doesn’t know what he would find out about his mother.

 

“He doesn’t know who is mother is. Will you teach him Master?”

 

“I will but it will not be easy.” He looks at Jon out of the corner of his eyes.

 

“I don’t expect it to be Master Torune.” He tells the man who's face is impassive.

 

“Good, we will start tomorrow.”

 

&  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &

 

Master Torune was a tough teacher. He had a daughter named Aki who was six-and-twenty with a four year old boy she had with a Lyseni man. He had Jon stay in his home so he could wake up at dawn and run with the man, who was in his six tens despite looking like he was in his late four tens. 

 

He then was taught what the man called ‘basic’ forms of a type of combat without any sort of weapon. Later in the day he hands Jon over to Aki for training with a spear type weapon called a naginata. After that Torune took him back and he ran drills with a small sword called a tanto. Both of them were of Yi Tish origin. 

 

They complimented him on his quick learning. He quickly integrated the tanto into his swordplay. 

 

He trained hard and for two moons he was trained along with all of the other new recruits. They had to be able to work in a march and in a large group. One of the most interesting things they learned was a fighting strategy known as the phalanx. It worked well for the group oriented Northerners as they had to interlock shields with the men next to them and have only small amounts of space to allow spears or swords to poke through. It was to protect from archers.

 

Ghost also grew rapidly. He seemed to catch up to his larger siblings, of course Jon didn’t know that for sure. He thought that maybe being taken in by the older bitch named Huntress, that was Old Rodrik’s wolf, helped him grow faster.  He communicated with his family but it was hard to send letters to Winterfell from Braavos. He had to send the letters with the Seastarks on the Bitch.

 

Jon also met the two children of Old Rodrik. He had only two that were alive. His younger son had perished from an infection after he got slashed across the arm seven years before.

 

His eldest son was name Harrion and he reminded Jon of Theon. The man looked Stark and was in his late twenties. He had beady dark eyes like a crow, but otherwise was the epitome of a Northern man. He had a thick dark beard and dark hair that was only just past his ear. He was called the Wolf Brat behind his back, for good reason. He was arrogant, annoying, and thought himself smarter than he was. He didn’t have a direwolf. He immediately decided that he hated Jon.

 

***************Flashback***************

 

**“So you are the new Snow.”**

 

**“Aye, I am.” Jon says knowing the tone in the man’s voice was condescending and was practically rolling his eyes.**

 

**“You look like a sister fucker.”**

 

**“I have been told I look rather Valyrian.” He says his voice monotone.**

 

**“So do you think that you are going to come here and be revered because you are a Snow of the Stark family.”**

 

**“Brandon Snow was an adult with many battles under his belt, and a trusted advisor of a king. I am on the cusp between childhood and manhood, I have fought no battles, and I have never been a trusted advisor to more than a heist of pastries. No, no I do not believe I will immediately come here and be revered.” The man gets angry and stalks off.**

 

**“Good job lad. The Wolf Brat shut up.”**

 

****************Flashback****************

 

The other child of Old Rodrik was a daughter in her teens. She was older than Jon and had already earned herself a fearsome reputation. She was often called the Bloody Bitch. She was tall like Sansa was, although she was a little thicker than his slender younger sister. Her hair was dark and always braided back. She looked how Jon imagined his aunt looked like with the long face, pale skin, nicely shaped lips and large eyes. She had the silver eyes of the Starks and Whitestarks. Her name was Mariah, and it was a deceptively pretty name for a strong woman. She had a large male direwolf that was a dark black and she called him Night.

 

Night and Ghost had played on multiple occasions. Some made comments but Jon and Mariah had brushed them off or found those responsible and knocked them out. That was mostly Mariah as Jon decided to ignore the comments or say that he was rather young and they were kin.

 

After Master Torune deemed him acceptable he was allowed to move back into the barracks. He went to the onsight pub and that of course leads to trouble.

 

In this case trouble came in the form of a large drunk man that consistently hangs around the Wolf Brat. He claims an Umber heritage and unlike the man who yelled at Jon when he arrived he was not jovial. He was a known whoremonger.

 

“Oy it’s the Lysene boyfucker.”

 

“I’m from Westeros, I’ve never been to Lys nor have I ever fucked a boy. Unlike you I don’t need coin to gain a woman’s affections.” The majority of the pub laughs at the large man who flushes red and then turns purple.

 

“Fuck you lad! You spoiling for a fucking fight you fucking fuck!?!”

 

“And if I am?” The man belly laughs obviously believe Jon would loose easily.

 

“Alright, barefisted ‘till the other gives up the fight. Right now in the yard!”

 

“You’ve got a deal whoremonger.” They shake on it.

 

The two of them, along with most of the bar, go out to the tiltyard. Jon and the other man strip until they are only wearing their trousers and boots. They don’t have any weapons on them. Jon was getting pretty good at fighting with just his hands in the nine moons that he had been doing so. Ghost was locked away to keep him from interfering.

 

The man was obviously putting his bets on him winning, along with most of the Company. He laughed at Jon settling into a stance. Jon didn’t react. The large man made a lazy swipe in his direction that Jon ducked under. He darts close and punches him just under the ribs hard. He makes a gasping noise. He tries to grab Jon but he backs out of his slowed attempt. His breath comes back quickly and he goes for baiting.

 

“You hit hard for a boy who looks like a pleasure slave.”

 

“How do you know what a pleasure slave looks like?” He replies.

 

The man charges and Jon spins out of his way kicking him in the back of the knees. Jon twists his arm behind the large man and he breaks it. He bellows and knocks Jon to the ground cracking a rib and bruising his side. He then punches Jon in the face looming over him. Jon kicks the man in the groin and then pushes a flat palm into the man’s Adam’s apple. Jon then wraps the man in a headlock, the man clawing at his arm. Despite this he holds on until the man goes unconscious.

 

He lets go and the man falls forward. Jon has won. His eye was bruised and swelling, his arm was scratched to all hell and he had a cracked rib. The yard is quiet before there are cheers and he hears Ghost howl.

 

As he makes his way to the man who treats wounds Master Torune walks next to him.

 

“You made me a good amount of money today. I’m glad to realize they will now take me seriously.”

 

“Glad to know you bet on me Master Torune.”

 

“If that man had been any smarter I wouldn’t have, but he’s an idiot.” Then he slaps Jon’s head with the top of his cane causing Jon to wince. “Not again until you’re better.”

 

“Yep, not for a good long while.”


	5. Chapter 4: King's Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The things that happen differently in King's Landing. Ser Barristan kills an asshole and pisses off a Queen. Ser Jaime decides that everyone can fuck off, and Ned Stark will protect his daughters no matter the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried when I wrote this and since it is very late Valentines day, here are feels. I hadn't had concrete storyline for Jaime but I knew I didn't want him to do the cannon thing (Duh). However, his character arc will be minor but yeah major canon divergences here.

_ “King’s Landing is a pit of snakes.” _

_ -Doran Martell: ‘A Dance with Dragons’ Chapter 38, The Watcher _

 

3rd Person PoV

 

Ser Barristan hated King’s Landing but returning here knowing that a son of Rhaegar lives made him feel lighter than he had in years. There was hope for this city and these people yet. They didn’t have to suffer and mad Lannister King. Ser Barristan wouldn’t have to stand aside and let someone kill Joffrey to protect the Realm.

 

On the way there Ser Barristan had slipped a note to Lord Stark about the boy he claimed was his bastard. He had asked if the child was trueborn, if his sister was the Crown Prince’s second wife. Ned Stark had told him he believed that to be true. However, he had never gone looking for that sort of information before. Ser Barristan made contact with old friends he had made in the small folk who got his message to a loyalist.  


 

Ser Jaime began to keep Sansa away from the Prince and watching the meetings between them. He had also told the King of the Prince getting drunk and almost maiming Lady Arya. The man had made it his mission to protect those girls, bringing Myrcella along despite his sister’s silent protests. Ser Barristan was glad to see the man breaking away from his sister. They had spent a few nights talking about the plans and the horrible situation he was when it came to his family.

 

When he learned that Joffrey was Jaime’s son, suddenly everything made sense. Jaime had always felt that his sister was treated horribly by Robert, which she was and Ser Barristan would not deny her that. However, they both knew that if they took it to the King it could be a good and bad thing. 

 

It would be good because it would destabilize the monarchy, leaving the King with no heirs, and it would leave Tywin in a horrid spot if his golden son admitted to having children with his own twin and cuckolding the King. However Tywin was a proud man who would never admit that Jaime could do anything wrong besides not become Lord of the Rock. Jaime had said even had he stayed and been named he would have waited for his father to die and give everything to his brother. Also it might play their hand a little too early, and truly it was easier to wait until Robert Baratheon dies and then reveal his heir to be a bastard and let his brother’s squabble over the throne.

 

Ser Barristan was glad for the distraction of the tourney. Although he wished that he could participate in it, if only to kill the Mountain. Instead he guarded the Royal box with pride watching the joust and glaring at Baelish. Joffrey was as insufferable as always, his ridiculous ego stroked by his lioness mother.

 

The Mountain killed the squire of Jon Arryn and Ser Barristan knew it was no coincidence that he died at the hands of a Lannister man when Lord Stark wished to speak with him. The anger that had settled in the old man’s chest grew heavier at the sight. The weight of failure and the oppressive feeling of being furious made his tremble slightly. He was an old man, even an old knight could tremble from weakness. He wanted to be seen as weak, be underestimated. The lioness would learn that living on this Earth for 61 gives anyone an edge. Wheat* has nothing to fear from a lion, and he might not contact his family anymore but he is a Stormlander born and bred.

 

Barristan saw his chance to kill Elia's murderer when the Mountain went to attack Ser Loras as he loitered in front of the King reveling in his mind like more young men were want to do. He dashed forward and when the huge man raised his arm to slam his sword on the young Tyrell he thrusted his sword into the man’s armpit. He made sure to wriggle the sword around hopefully hitting arteries and the large man’s heart. He withdrew the sword as the cut closed up around it. The man collapsed and the Queen screams in anger rather than in horror.

 

“You traitor!” She cries. “That was one of my father’s men!”

 

“He attacked a boy of 10-and-5 after losing a joust. I could not be sure that he would be satisfied in killing him instead of swinging wildly and possibly hitting your son my Queen.” The King looks torn between being angry at Ser Barristan for killing the man, and happy that he had made his cold wife angry.

 

“Take off his fucking head and give it to the Dornish as a concession. He was protecting us woman be grateful.”

 

And just like that the tourney continued and Ser Barristan returned to his post. Never had Ser Barristan been so glad about the King’s own hatred for his wife. It worked to his advantage, and the look of surprise he got from many was easy to ignore. 

 

Later when he was off duty and in the tourney grounds the smallfolk approached him. Their eyes were big and they thanked him, stating the horrors the Mountain and his men had committed in King’s Landing over the past few days. The Hound nodded to Ser Barristan in a sign of respect. It was the best Ser Barristan had felt in years, his aching joints forgotten.

 

Lady Sansa and her father thanked him, as they had been some of the closest to the Mountain and his rampage. Lady Arya was apparently at dancing lessons. Ser Barristan had a sneaking suspicion that the dancing was Braavosi Water Dancing. The First Sword of Braavos does not arrive in King’s Landing and have his entrance ignored.

 

Ser Jaime told him that his sister would want him dead as soon as the King was. Ser Barristan knew he could handle that.

 

&  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &

 

**7 Moons Later**

 

Ser Jaime Lannister had made a series of horrible choices in his life. However, now he felt like he was fixing it slightly. He could not fully get rid of his sins, but he could make up for them. After stabbing Ned Stark, superficially but in a way that looked nasty, he had fled the city of King’s Landing. Instead of making his way to his father and to the possibility of taking over the Rock he did something else.

 

He took off his white cloak, abandoning it in the Kingswood and then he boarded a ship heading towards East-Watch-By-The-Sea. He had sold his fine armor, horse and sword. He bought some less expensive clothing, a good thick cloak, and gave a donation to an orphanage in the middle of the night. He needed to atone for a lot of things, and he refused to be his family’s pawn any longer. The Night’s Watch would still be an order that Jaime would feel comfortable. He could still fight, using the only skill he was good at.

 

Of course he wouldn’t use his true name as he had sent out a confession to every major house in Westeros. He had told everyone of the reason why he had killed King Aerys, and Joffrey's true parentage. However, in it he said he was going East to the Golden Company. No one would hear of him and many might assume he was killed by pirates or enslaved. It was time for Ser Jaime Lannister to die. He renamed himself Ser Jerry Hill, a bastard of Lannisport Lannisters with good enough skill to be knighted. The ship was something he was familiar enough with for all that he disliked it. 

 

Ser Jaime had always been bound to a duty even if he often failed it. Now he was free to do what he wished. If he saw Maester Aemon he would tell him about the kin that shared his name. He would tell Ser Benjen what he had done and ask to be left alone. 

 

Ser Jaime had already seen one war caused by a delusional madman. The whole of Westeros could go fuck itself if it thought he was participating in another one.

 

&  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &

 

**2 Moons** **Later**

 

As Ned Stark listened to the dripping in the Black Cells, eyes open yet seeing nothing, he could only wonder when everything had went so horribly wrong. He had always known he was not suited to the political games that went on in King’s Landing. Although it seemed he overestimated the amount of common human decency available in the South. A voice sounding like Brandon’s said that it was probably when he trusted Baelish.

 

Now his friend was dead, the Kingdom will be ruled by a madman and Tywin Lannister’s daughter, and he was chained in the Black Cells. His youngest daughter had disappeared from the Red Keep according to Varys and Sansa was a well-cared for hostage. The Lannisters wanted to confess false treason and he had lied to protect his kin before and he shall have to do it once again.

 

The door opens with a torch and Ned Stark flinches back, unused to the light after so long in the darkness.

 

“Father?” Sansa’s voice is the sweetest thing he could have heard.

 

“Lord Stark,” the man behind her was Ser Barristan, Sansa’s red hair dyed blonde. “We don’t have much time Lady Sansa.”

 

“What is going on?”

 

“Ser Barristan is rescuing me. He knows where Arya is. I wanted to see you.”

 

“Lord Stark I will get your daughters away from here but please when you go to confess tell the truth of what happened to your sister.”

 

“Ser Barristan,” Ned takes a deep breath as his daughter hisses. “Father? What’s going on? What happened to Aunt Lyanna?”

 

“She is Jon’s mother, Rhaegar is his father, and his name is Aemon.” Sansa gasped.

 

“Then that means-”

 

“Aye, now go. I assure you Ser Barristan I will tell the truth. Go!”

 

“Come my lady. I will take you to your cousin.”

 

“Father.”

 

“I will likely die Sansa, but know this I am so proud of you. I am proud of all of my children, Jon included. I love all of you.” Sansa’s hand is clinging to Ser Barristan’s cloak and tears well up in her eyes. He sees Ice’s scabbard with the hilt sticking out on the older man’s back.

 

“I love you too father,” her voice is tear stained and Ned watches, pride in his chest as his daughter leaves and doesn’t look back.

 

“You’ll live Sansa. You’ll live.” He says to himself after she leaves.  


 

An uncountable amount of time passes, he doses and wakes up, or at least he believes he sleeps and wakes. It seems like he is always dreaming of blackness. Guards come with blazing torches, Ned hisses and closes his eyes in response. He is dragged to the Sept of Baelor, some of the small folk cheering but most of them silent and serious. He wonders what happened to them but then he remembers Joffrey’s cruelty and knows that something horrible had happened. He is thrown into the Sept at the feet of the Queen Dowager and her son the new King. His hands were bound in front of him.

 

“What happened to Lady Sansa?” The mad boy demands.

 

“Has something happened to my daughter? I was told you would keep her safe in your care.”

 

“She disappeared from the Red Keep last night. Alongside your ancestral sword. Do not act dumb Lord Stark where did your agents take her?”

 

“I don’t have agents, I had my household guards and that was it. They are dead now. I know no more of her current location, and that of my sword than you do Queen Dowager.”

 

“We will get nothing from him.”

 

“Take him to confess.”

 

“Your grace-”

 

“Drag him before the people and make him confess his crimes.” Joffrey sends a glare his mother’s way.

 

He is dragged before to the Sept of Baelor. He acts as though his leg is lame. His wound is certainly infected but superficial and although it throbs he knows he could stand and fight. It was something he would do. The Queen would not like his confession and neither would this mad king. They would learn that a Quiet Wolf is still dangerous. He sees his daughters in the crowd. Arya’s hair was cut short and she was dressed like a boy, Sansa was dressed simply with blonde hair to match her blue eyes. Arya’s hair had also been lightened. He would create a diversion to allow Ser Barristan to slip them out of the crowd and King’s Landing.

 

“I have come to confess my crimes against the crown.” He takes a deep breath and begins. “After the slaughter of Elia and her babes at the hand of Tywin Lannister’s men I could not bear to be in King’s Landing any longer. I freed King Robert’s brothers and went to Dorne to collect the sister that had been stolen from me. I never told anyone what she died from besides her lying on a bed of blood. She perished after bringing her son into the world. The boy should have died not long after birth because of his early birth, or I should have turned him over to Robert. I could not bear another King killing my kin. I had lost my father, brother, and a sister in a years time. It mattered not that his father was Rhaegar Targaryen. I kept him alive. I didn’t turn him over to Robert, and I claimed him as my own bastard son. Jon Snow’s true name is Aemon Targaryen. He is the rightful King.” The crowd roars and Ser Barristan and his daughters disappear. “He has a better claim than this bastard born of cuckolding and incest. This King Joffrey is mad and cruel and I would run from his rule if you can. My crimes against the crown include refusing to kill a babe and bow to a madman and his adulterous mother.For that I ask my gods to give their own judgement.”

 

“Bring me his head!”

 

Men rush towards him and he stands tall. They had given him loosely tied rope bonds that he had been able to unbind during his speech. His time learning to make traps and the knots used for them coming in handy. The first man hopes to slam into Ned and pin him down. He dodges and sticks out his leg. The knight falls into the rabid crowd and the man screams as he is attacked by the smallfolk. The next man is in the middle of drawing his sword. Ned does it for him and slashes his face. He chops off Ser Ilyn’s hand which are only clad in leather gloves. Another man gets the butt of his sword to the temple. He’s hit with a crossbow bolt in the back and although he grits his teeth he keeps fighting his way through the crowd of Westermen. It takes 10 crossbow bolts to bring him down to his knee.

 

“Any last words Lord Stark?” Ned moves his legs so he is on both knees rather than one in the traditional position of fealty. 

 

Blood bubbles up and he waits until the cruel boy King gets close and spits the blood all over his face.

 

“Westeros will never accept another Mad King, Joffrey Waters.” 

 

It is the last thing Lord Eddard Stark ever says. The Queen Dowager and her son have to flee from the crowd of angry smallfolk. Eddard Stark’s body is grabbed by these men and women. They take out the crossbow bolts, and clean the man up, sewing his neck wound. The smallfolk of King’s Landing give Lord Stark a proper funeral. They have hope that the Lannisters shall be destroyed with their blonde lioness, and he was the one who gave him that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The Selmy coat of arms is three golden pieces or wheat on a field of brown. I looked it up.


	6. Adventures in Essos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon goes to fight for the Company for the first time and get's sucked into some shenanigans and learns a truth. Starts four moons before Ned Stark's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Valyrian looks weird because I was using the online translator and there are some words that they don't have on it.  
> Also it is a long chapter.  
> So I think Ned was in KL for like a year so Jon has been training and Ghost has been growing for like 10 months or moons.

_ “What I love most about this crazy life is the adventure of it.”  _

_ -Juliette Binoche _

 

3rd Person PoV

 

**4 Moons Earlier**

 

After defeating the large man of Umber descendant Jon earned the nickname the Giant Slayer. He enjoyed a high status among the other younger recruits even if he was one of the youngest among them. It took a long while before he was allowed to go on the missions that the Company would do. His 10-and-5 birthday passed before he was allowed to leave Braavos.

 

He was called to Astapor along with fifty men to reinforce a group they had there. The Masters of Astapor had killed one of their older merchant Seastarks, his daughter, and enslaved his grandson along with stealing the man’s direwolf. Of course the Company was not going to stand for someone of their blood being a slave for the perfumed Essosi.

 

Astapor was hotter than any place that Jon had ever been to in his life. He had taken the other’s warnings and worn only a tunic and breeches under his grey armor that was standard issue for Company members. He had his weapons and he joined the rest of the camp. It was a smaller version than the war camps that Robert Baratheon talked about. There were women lingering around hoping to earn some coin from the many lonely men in the camp.

 

“Nyke ryptan pōnta brōzagon ao se rōvala pryjatys*.” (I heard they call you the giant destroyer.) Her voice is high, her eyes half-lidded, and she gets close to him.

 

“Iksan vaoreznuni, nyke ȳdra daor emagon gelebo naejot jiōragon.” (I’m sorry, I don’t have coin to offer.)

 

“Lads!” A man around his father’s age yells. “A group of us are going to talk with those Essosi fucks! Be ready! It could get ugly quick!”

 

“Yes sir!” They all chorus.

 

“Tolī quba, iksā olvie litse*.” (Too bad, you are quite fair.) She leaves after running her hand down his arm.

 

Jon took a deep breath in, closed his eyes and tried to meditate as he had done with Master Torune many times. He found that it calmed him down, and he needed to be calm. As his mind drifted he seemed to wake up. Only it wasn’t in his body. 

 

Jon knew he was likely to be a warg. He had been having wolf dreams since Ghost was in his arms. He had had other similar dreams when he was very young, flying around in crows. When he started to learn about being a bastard and facing Lady Catelyn’s scorn in the face of all he wanted was her love. They had encountered some Northerners who had suppressed that part of them.

 

He was at about the same height, maybe a little shorter. He had no hands, only paws, a tail, and moving ears. He was in the direwolf that had been grabbed. The little boy was shivering and chained. He was barely older than Rickon and Jon’s heart hurt thinking of his brother in the same situation.

 

**“SAVE PUP.”** The direwolf doesn’t say in it’s head so much as feels alongside Jon. 

 

Jon looks at his surroundings finding the direwolf in a cage. One without a set of chains and locks. Only two deadbolts locked the direwolf in, and while the direwolf couldn’t get out Jon could. He opens the deadbolts and then he is forced back into his body.

 

“The direwolf is out.” All of the men turn to Jon.

 

“Are you a warg?” One asks him.

 

“I guess so,” Jon says looking at his feet. “Gods that was fucking weird.”

 

“Someone is leaving the tent!” Another man says. “Grab your weapons!”

 

The group of men have no direwolves and are carrying the crying child. They get the child and a woman who had braided Jon’s hair back onto a horse. She is getting the boy out of range of these men.

 

Jon grabbed the standard issue shield, his tanto on his belt, his naginata on his back. His sword was in his hand and he got into a group with other men. His heart was beating quickly and the world slowed when another call rang out.

 

“UNSULLIED APPROACHING! FORM UP!”

 

The group puts their shields up in what they call a phalanx. It was something that the Company had adapted from the Unsullied. The Unsullied was definitely more uniform but the Wolf Phalanx could be deadlier. On the sides and top the tallest and strongest held it up. They could knock attackers off of the formation if they worked together. The entire thing was roiling and every single man was in tune. There was no single man or woman in this formation. They were all one single being.

 

The Unsullied look harried and had obviously been hired for something else but repurposed to fight them. Jon feels horrid that these men have to choice but to fight but he will guard the backs of the men he is with.

 

A wall of black arrows is launched. The many direwolves either had armor on or were going around the area. The majority of the arrows don’t get through. One man gets hit is the shoulder and grits his teeth. Screams begin to ring out as the direwolves attack the archer from behind. Jon tastes blood on his tongue and teeth. 

 

The Unsullied have spears and a few men get speared however the majority of the Northmen and woman go to the unprotected sides. Jon stabs a caramel skinned man in the side. Jon hits another man in the neck and begins to force his way down the row. The taste of blood getting thicker as it slides down his throat. He sees a boy around his age writhing on the ground.

 

Jon roars and bares his teeth. The line between wolf and man blurred. He grabs an Unsullied spear. He hits the man in the eye having jumped up. He slams into another man. The wolves howl and Jon joins. The formation and the Unsullied training breaking down. 

 

He comes back to himself as the last Unsullied falls dead. He is covered in blood, and he doesn’t know whether it is all his enemies or his is there are well. Ghost has bloody paws, and his muzzle is coated in gore. His arms and legs ache and the sun seems to have moved from it’s point in the sky.

 

“Alright lads!” His attention snaps to a blood streaked captain. “Gather the wounded, put the dead in a pile, and burn it all!”

 

“Yes Captain!” They chorus.

 

The boy from earlier is still writhing and they watch as an older man stabs the back of his neck just under the head and he dies immediately. 

 

As the bodies begin to burn Jon turns away to wash off all of the blood. He strips off his armor and finds the letter from his father. He decides that it is time to read it. No more fear.

 

It changes his life immediately.

 

&  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &

 

Jon was staring at the dirt on the ground as though it had the answers that he sought. The earth never spoke and his only answer was a high pitched screech and the feeling of tiny little claws on his unarmored calf.

 

He was not the son of Eddard Stark and some random woman or Ashara Dayne. He was not even truly eligible for the last name Stark according to Westerosi law. He didn’t have five half-siblings. Everything he had ever been told was a lie to protect him. His name wasn’t Jon Snow.

 

His name is Aemon Targaryen, the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. He is not a bastard taken in by the kindness of a good man, but the rightful king of the country he had left behind. He had two siblings and a stepmother but all three were murdered before he was even born. He was an orphaned boy taken in by an uncle. His siblings were his cousins.

 

He had a direwolf and now three baby dragons destined for his aunt and uncle. Supposedly to his unborn cousin. They had been thrown into the pyre with the Northerners and Unsullied who died and emerged crying pitifully.

 

The dragon who had been climbing him screeches in his ear. 

 

He focuses in on the men around him. He sighs in defeat and picks the needy little purple dragon up and allows it to curl around his fingers.

 

“So, want to tell us why the dragons are crawling all over you lad?”

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” He asks of the man who looks more and more like his father with every passing moment.

 

“I’d like to hear it from you.” Jon sighs and begins.

 

“I’m not who I believe I was. My name is Aemon Targaryen, apparently, and I am Lyanna Stark’s son, sired on her by Rhaegar Targaryen. Eddard Stark is my uncle and he didn’t tell anyone in the hopes of keeping me safe.”

 

“Sounds about right.” The man crouches down and looks him in the eyes. “The Braavosi will kill you if you go back. We can resettle you in Pentos. I’ve heard your father’s family has finally left there recently, following a Dothraki Khal.”

 

“My life has just changed.” Jon says. “Gods this makes me the rightful king.”

 

“Your life has not changed completely, you’re still of the North. You are still a Stark. Or maybe you’ll have another name if you’ve come up with one Snow.” Jon considered it. “I think you should call yourself Bloodstark.”

 

“No Blackstark or something like that?”

 

“You earned the name. You were probably one of the bloodiest living men on the battlefield.”

“Jon Bloodstark at your service then, Captain.”

 

&  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &  &

 

The group of the men were just pass Meereen when they encountered a group of slavers.

 

The dragons were placed in a basket attached to his horse. They were constantly roiling and he only let them out at night. Ghost was quite nurturing towards the little dragons. The group of men were eventually going back to Pentos. They just wished to go around Slaver’s Bay.

 

The slavers looked to be Lyseni and Tyroshi. They had at least 100 women and children in cages and chains. He was not the only one who was angry at the sight. Jon’s armor still had some blood on it.

 

Ghost and the other direwolves moved before the rest of them did. They rode into the camp like the Dothraki they probably stole the people from. The slavers fell quickly and easily to their weapons. Then they had a group of cowering women and children.

 

“Kostagon mēre hen ao shifang nyke?!*” (*Can one of you understand me?) Jon cries.

 

“Kostan! qilōni issi ao?*” (*I can! Who are you?) One Lyseni looking woman asks him.

 

“Iksi se zokli. Iksi kesīr naejot dāez ao se tepagon ao naejot aōha lentor.*” (We are the wolves. We are here to free you and give you to your family.*)

 

“Skoro syt?*” (*Why?) The woman asks sharply. 

 

“Kesrio syt daorys kessa sagon iā buzdari lo kosti keligon ziry.*” (*Because no one shall be a slaver if we can stop it.) He tells her. “Tolvys ēdruta sagon dāez, issa quba naejot ivestragon lodaor. Skoriot iksis aōha lenton?*” (*Everyone must be free, it is bad to say otherwise. Where is your home?)

 

“Gūrogon īlva naejot Vaes Dothrak.*” (*Take us to Vaes Dothrak.)

 

“Vaes Dothrak? That’s a journey that is almost a moon and practically half a continent away.”

 

“Aye it is, but I’m not leaving them to be sold into slavery.” The captain says. “I’ll send a couple of you to tell the Company. You can go.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“Will you stay?” The captain asks of him. “You probably speak the best Valyrian out of all of us.” 

 

The screech of one of his dragons leaves him with something to consider. However he sees the women and men looking at the others with a lot of distrust.

 

“I’ll come with you. I don’t think they would trust you.”

 

“Good.”

 

Jon and many others begin cutting the chains off of the children. They are fascinated by the direwolves and the wolves are quite happy to indulge the curious little hands that dig into their fur. The Dothraki women and children are only distrustful of the men. They all know how to go about living in a caravan. 

 

Once they hit the Dothraki sea they began to encountering small Khalasars. They look at them distrustfully until the women and children advocate for them. The adult men are similarly interested in the large wolves. One man loses two fingers when he pulls on Ghosts fur, but he laughs it off.

 

Vaes Dothrak was a place that he would tell his siblings about. The entrance to the place had hundreds of feet of bronze statues. Some of them were naked ladies, strong warriors, mythical beasts. They were stopped at the gates of the city by Dothraki warriors.

 

They speak in a guttural language that Jon does not understand. The women chatter back along with the children. They try and tell the group something but none of them can understand it. Then the woman that can speak Valyrian begins to speak to him.

 

“Daor egrossa isse Vaes Dothrak. Issa se vēttir.” (No blades in Vaes Dothrak. It is the law.)

 

“No blades?”

 

“I think she means no weapons.”

 

“Everything is a weapon if you are creative enough.” One woman says under her breath.

 

“Then we won’t have a problem complying with their demands.” The captain says and turns to the rest of them. “Give them your weapons!”

 

They are allowed to put their weapons all together and the direwolves give the Dothraki a warning growl when they examined the weapons. The group is then escorted to a circular building populated by older looking women. They speak with the Valyrian looking woman who then translates.

 

“Se Dosh Khaleen tepagon pōja kirimvose. Kessa ao kisalbar lēda īlva?” (The Dosh Khaleen give their thanks. Will you feast with us?)

 

“Iksi biare naejot.” (We would be happy to.) He tells her with a nod.

 

The Khals are glad to accept all of them and the the children might not have found their families but they were accepted by the khalasars. All of the children of the Dothraki would be taken in by men and women in other khalasars. Unless the child was a son of the Khal, they belonged to the entire khalasar and had as many fathers and mothers as there were in the group. 

 

The feast was rowdy and there were fights among the Dothraki, and between the company members and their hosts. It was rather fun and Jon joined in on the fights laughing like a maniac. Jon’s dragons had been left in the tents that they had set up with an older man. Men mounted women in front of everyone and pretty girls weaved around the Northern men and women. One woman took a dark skinned Summer Islander woman up on her offer. The food was from all over Essos and some of it was from Dorne.

 

Many of the men from the Company turned red even though they tried to blame it on excess alcohol. The Dothraki picked up on it and Jon didn’t need to know how to speak their language to understand they were ribbing them. Jon was one of the few that could actually eat the spice without wincing and turning the color of his brother’s hair. 

 

It was quite the party.

 


	7. Meet the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon deals with the fallout of reading the letter his father sent him. He also comes into contact with his newly known family. Viserys is a little bitch and Daenerys is a cinnamon roll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long it's taken for me to update school happened and now I'm off from school. Hope you like this slightly longer chapter.

_ “The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life.” _

_ -Richard Bach _

 

3rd Person PoV

 

The group had stayed in Vaes Dothrak for a few days. It was during one of those days that Jon bumped into a man he hardly recognized. He had the Mormont bear on his chest but the last time Jon had seen him Jorah Mormont had been one of the happiest men Jon had ever seen.

 

“Ser Jorah? What are you doing here?”

 

“Ned Stark’s boy.” The man looks at his armor. “A member of the Company of Wolves now?”

 

“Aye, we ran into some slavers that held Dothraki children and women. My captain thought we should return them to their own people.” The man flinches just the tiniest bit.

 

“Aye.”

 

“Ser Jorah, who is this?” A Lysene looking man asks, an angry look on his face. “You look like Brandon Stark and Rickard Stark.”

 

“Considering they are my uncle and grandfather I would assume I look like them. You must be Viserys Targaryen.”

 

“I am the rightful king.”

 

“The Targaryen dynasty was forcefully ejected from the throne through blood and conquest. Unless you win it back you are not rightful king by Westerosi law.” The man’s face twists into pure unadulterated rage.

 

“You wish to wake the dragon bastard?”

 

“Charge me Viserys and you will find your blood spilling on the ground.” He says as multiple direwolves come and stalk up to his side. 

 

“Ser Jorah! Brother! What is going on?” A woman’s voice says and Jon sees a girl around his age approaching wearing Dothraki clothes.

 

“Khaleesi, this is-”

 

“Jon Bloodstark, I am a member of the Company of Wolves, Khaleesi. Ser Jorah and I are from the same Kingdom.” Viserys goes to hit him and Jon grabs the man’s arm and uses it to flip him over his head and onto the ground. 

 

The bloodriders accompanying the woman laugh at Viserys’ misfortune and begin speaking rapidly. Jon has to dodge the man trying to hit him again before the dire wolves intervene. They surround the man growling and the Dothraki men talk among themselves. They ask something to a woman who then asks him in Common Tongue.

 

“Are these the beasts that took the fingers of Khal Rado’s bloodrider off?”

 

“Yes, he pulled on the fur of my direwolf Ghost. Ghost is a pup so he doesn’t quite understand when to stop yet.” Ghost takes that moment to sit down next to Jon and Jon pets his head. 

 

They speak a little more and then the woman asks once again.

 

“That is a pup?”

 

“Aye he won’t be full grown for another two years. He was also the runt of his litter.” They speak a little bit more; the bloodriders seem impressed.

 

“If that is the runt of his litter I don’t want to see the rest.” Jon laughs at the woman’s statement.

 

“You won’t unless you go to Westeros. They are all with my siblings.”

 

“You are from Westeros?” The girl who must be Daenerys asks excitedly and Jon almost laughs at the differences between his uncle and aunt.

 

“Yes, Khaleesi, I was born in Dorne but I have only ever known the North.”

 

“Your Dornish?”

 

“No my lady, I am a Northerner born and bred.”

 

“Your a savage bastard!”

 

“Funny coming from the man who decides to act like a Wildling whenever someone says something he doesn’t like. If you want to be a King then act like something other than a spoiled child. Khaleesi, Ser Jorah.”

 

He walks off quickly leaving the group behind. He feels safe once he gets back into the long open hut the company had been given to stay in that was near enough to other merchants and such. It was so close in fact that they had already secured a job to escort a man, who looked like a Summer Islander, to Pentos.

 

The little dragons that he told everyone were lizards from Yi Ti. He kept them close and made sure that no one swiped them or saw too much of them. The captain saw him and must have seen how shaken he was.

 

“What’s wrong boy?”

 

“I met my aunt and uncle along with Ser Jorah Mormont.”

 

“Why are they here?”

 

“Daenerys is married to a Khal apparently. I flipped Viserys over my head and called him a spoiled child.” The man laughed loudly.

 

“Captain what did the lad do now?”

 

“The Beggar King is here and this one threw him!”

 

“Good on you lad! See ya got more of your mother in ya!”

 

“Aye, I don’t think I inherited anything from him other than being prettier than most girls.” The men and women in the tent laugh at him.

 

“Aye, that’s for sure!” One woman says, her face scarred and looking like Lady Maege Mormont’s twin. “My daughters aren’t half as pretty.”

 

“But I’m sure they are probably taller.” The woman laughs and ruffles his hair.

 

“Cheeky little brat.”

 

&  & &  & & &  & & & &  & & & & &  & & &

 

That night Daenerys asked after the boy Jon Bloodstark who had thrown her brother. 

 

Ser Jorah had told her that the boy was the bastard son of Ned Stark. He also told her that as a member of the Company of Wolves, a mercenary company that was essentially the Northern version of the Golden Company, many Snows would change their last name or earn one. Ser Jorah hadn’t been allowed to join because of his dealings with slavery.

 

Jorah didn’t know much about him but the last time he had seen Jon Snow he was a young boy in Winterfell. When her husband learned that the beast that took off a bloodriders fingers was there he wanted to meet the boy as well. Even more when it was learned that he had flipped Viserys when the man had charged him.

 

Daenerys was similarly intrigued because of the fact that the boy had grown up in the homeland that was supposed to be her brother’s by right. So she decided to seek him out and ask about Westeros.

 

She found him playing with some of the younger Dothraki children. He lifted them up on his arms and let them attach to his legs and despite the language barrier all of the children were laughing. The boy was also laughing with them making noises not unlike some sort of monster. One little boy jumped up on his back and used his body weight to send them all tumbling down.

 

“I am defeated! Vanquished! I am dead!” He then pretended to die but when the children got worried he wrapped one of them up in his arms and spun them the child laughing.

 

“Jon Bloodstark?” The man turns and then says.

 

“Khaleesi,” the children immediately become stiff and the majority of them leave. “What brings you here? I would have thought you would want to avoid me.”

 

“Normally I would but you are from Westeros. It was where I was born but I haven’t been there. Viserys would tell me about it but he hasn’t been there since he was a child.”

 

“I don’t know much about the whole of Westeros Khaleesi. I spent most of my life in Winterfell and the only Kingdom that I can remember is the North.”

 

“I still want to know anything.”

 

“Alright.” He sits down and offers a seat for her. “I grew up in Winterfell. While many people including the queen likely see it as a drab place-”

 

“The Queen?”

 

“Aye, King Robert and Queen Cersei visited not long before I left for Essos.”

 

“What were they like?”

 

“The truth is that they were a disappointing. All my life I grew up hearing about a great warrior King with a queen who was renowned for her beauty. Instead what we got was a man as wide as horse is long and a woman who thought everyone besides her and her half mad son to be useless.”

 

“The prince is mad?”

“If he isn’t I’ll be surprised. He acts like your brother.”

 

“Ah, you were good with the children.”

 

“Aye, I was one of six children with the only older one being like my twin. I was the only one besides my sister Arya that looked like a Stark. We were close because of that.”

 

“What is Winterfell like?”

 

“It’s a large grey fortress that has stood for thousands of years. There is copper piping in the walls to heat it. There is a huge throne that was for the Kings of Winter and underneath it the bones of all of the Starks are buried with stone statues. Once my brother and I covered ourselves in flour and scared our sisters into nightmares. We got in trouble for that.” He laughs at the memory. “Then there’s the Godswood. It’s in the middle of the castle and yet despite this it is one of the quietest places I’ve ever been to. There’s a pond in front of the Heart Tree that no one knows how deep it can go. It is said that in the days of the wars between the Kings of Winter and the Red Kings that the bodies of the men we triumphed over were thrown to the bottom of the lake after their blood was drained to feed the Heart Tree.”

 

“What is a Heart Tree exactly?”

 

“A Heart Tree is a weirwood with a face carved in it. If you are a worshipper of the Old Gods a Heart Tree is where your Gods can hear and see you.”

 

“Like a sept?”

 

“Aye I guess but we don’t have septons only the Green Men of the Isle of Faces.”

 

“Does it truly snow in the North during summer?”

 

“Aye it does, my brother and I would often hide underneath a thin layer of it and jump out at each other. We also would do snowball fights.”

 

“Snowball fights?”

 

“Aye, what you do is you grab a bunch of snow and make it into a hand sized ball and you try and hit as many people on the opposite team or just everyone you can.”

 

“It sounds fun.”

 

“It is fun. My younger sisters, despite always fighting would team up against us and get us as snowy as possible.” He laughs at the memory.

 

“What do the Northern people say about my brother?”

 

“Nothing, the North doesn’t care for any king so long as they aren’t roasting our lords and killing our children. The North would be just as happy independant as they would be as part of the Seven Kingdoms. Of the South I believe Dorne, much of the Crownlands, and the Reach would be glad for your return and mayhaps King’s Landing. However the majority of the Realm’s smallfolk only care for a good harvest and their children to live to adulthood.”

 

“Oh, so Viserys has been wrong about people sewing dragon banners?”

 

“I’m sorry Khaleesi but that seems to be his hopes rather than facts.”

 

Jon was glad to leave Vaes Dothrak and his father’s siblings behind. Although his aunt Daenerys was someone he didn’t dislike.


End file.
